


Botany

by aliencereal



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Pollen, Tent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliencereal/pseuds/aliencereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor gets attacked by a flower.  Dorian gives oral sex.  The two things are related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Botany

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote, edited and posted this on my phone in the waiting room of the walk-in clinic at the hospital. Classy AND sick.
> 
> I'll give it another look-over when I get to my computer later, so for now, my apologies for any typos!

The Inquisitor is far too enthusiastic about botany. Dorian has been saying that for months, usually during the average day's second hour of plant collecting.

Today is particularly unpleasant. They're gathering these horrible little pods from giant orange flowers, and if you handle the wrong, they burst. Dorian has yellow powder all over his gloves and boots.

It's probably some kind of karma that one pops two inches from Max's face. Dorian only laughs at him a little before handing over his handkerchief.

Maxwell smiles gratefully. He wipes the pollen out of his eyes and blows his nose, and then the incident ceases to hold anyone's attention.

Dorian assumes the flush to his lover's cheeks is embarrassment. The noise he'd made when the flower exploded in his face hadn't been terribly dignified. 

But he doesn't make eye contact when Cassandra tries to commiserate with him about hay fever, and the red spreads into his ears and neck instead of fading.

"I-- that's enough for today. Let's head back to camp," Maxwell declares abruptly after a few more minutes of plant collecting. It's earlier than he's called it off since the day it had become apparent by noon that the entire party had gotten food poisoning.

It is a credit to how much they all hate hunting for elfroot that nobody brings it up.

Still, the walk back to the campsite is half an hour long, and Dorian is starting to worry by the end of it. Max is chatty, but he ducks quickly out of any attempts at conversation on the walk back. He's fidgeting with the buttons on his robes, and there's something off about the way he's walking. Most suspicious is the way he keeps gazing at Dorian with wild eyes, sweat beading at his temples. 

Dorian falls into step beside him, sets a hand squarely between Max's shoulder blades. He isn't prepared for the full-body shudder the simple touch causes, or for the tiny whimper that comes with it. Dorian knows that noise. If he didn't know better, he might think...

"Are you alright, Amatus?" He asks, voice pitched low to avoid attracting the attention of Cassandra or Varric. Maxwell bites his lower lip and hastily nods.

"Fine! I'm fine, nothing's wrong," He says all in a rush. Dorian doesn't believe him, but Maxwell isn't an idiot. Not most days, at least. If he was seriously sick he would say something. He probably just has an upset stomach and wants to spare Dorian the details.

Dorian lets it drop until they get back to camp and Maxwell makes a beeline for their tent. Dorian exchanges a concerned look with Varric and follows him.

He finds the Inquisitor curled in on himself, one hand fisted in his bedroll and the other frantically rubbing a clothed erection. He's panting harshly through gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut and whole body shaking.

Dorian makes a soft noise of surprise and Maxwell startles, looking up at him with wide eyes. There are tears there, Dorian notices with a jolt. In spite of it all, his hand keeps going.

"I-- f-fuck, Dorian, I can't stop, I _can't_ , please don't let the others see," He pleads.

" _Vishante Kaffas_ , what was that plant," Dorian mumbles as he goes to him, dropping to his knees between Max's spread legs. Maxwell moans helplessly and grabs at his shoulder, more than a little frantic.

"Can I--" Dorian starts, but Maxwell cuts him off.

"Please, please, _please_ , whatever you want, anything, just please touch me," Max begs. Dorian knows exactly how to undo the trousers Maxwell wears on expeditions; his hands move from memory as he tugs at the laces. It leaves him free to watch his love's face, the very picture of desire to the point of pain. He doesn't look down until he's freed Max's cock.

The desperation suddenly makes visceral sense. Maxwell's cock is stone-hard and flushed a dark, dark red. It's twitching along with every rapid heartbeat, weeping pulses of precum. Dorian's cock aches in sympathy.

He follows instinct, knows what he would want if he needed it that badly. He ducks down and pops the leaking head into his mouth. No teasing, no games, just lips and a tongue right where you need them.

Maxwell sobs out a pathetic little " _Dorian_ ," before he claps both hands over his own mouth. The need for silence is obvious, with Cassandra and Varric so close, but Dorian still wishes he could hear him.

Dorian is talented with his mouth, and he knows exactly what Maxwell likes, but he doesn't have time to do any of it. He runs his tongue along the slit, fits his hand around the base in preparation to sink down and take him into his mouth--

And Maxwell comes, spurting hot and fast against Dorian's tongue. The groan that comes with it is loud enough to be heard even with his mouth covered. Dorian sucks gently on the head of his cock to encourage the pulses of fluid, and doesn't stop until Maxwell collapses into his back, panting and shaking.

"Thank you," Maxwell mumbles, and Dorian gives his softening cock a kiss. It makes Max whimper.

"Be nice," Max whines. "I'll return the favor in a minute."

"We should probably make sure that plant doesn't have any other nasty surprises first, don't you think?"

Maxwell mumbles something.

"What was that, Amatus?"

Maxwell flushes.

"That, uh. Wasn't what I'd call a nasty surprise."

In spite of himself, Dorian laughs.


End file.
